


Block It Out

by Skilley



Category: Handa-kun, ばらかもん | Barakamon
Genre: Awkwardness, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Social Anxiety, Therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2018-11-11 07:21:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11143593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skilley/pseuds/Skilley
Summary: Everyone knew the famous Handa-kun, and everybody adored him. But no one knew how he really was, what was really going on inside his head. Alone behind a wall of social perfection, Handa struggles to stay afloat. But with no one to help him, he barely keeps his head above the water.  But then, something changes...





	1. Introduction

Handa was a legend. He was adored by everyone at the school, and he was constantly reminded of it. 

Girls showered him in love letters, giggling about him in the locker room. Some of the boys were jealous of him, but they couldn't deny his power. 

There was just something about him. He was respected, he seemed to emit an air of superiority, but he didn't flaunt it. Never once had he bragged nor boasted about his fame. And somehow, that's what made people love him even more. 

But who really knew the real Handa? Even the Handa Force had trouble holding a lengthy conversation with him, and many of his followers were too scared. He was too much of a God to be spoken with on such casual terms. 

Only a few people caught a glimpse of what he was really like. Yukio was able to see past the cloud of mystery that surrounded him, he could tell what a shy and kind person he was. He knew that he was just misunderstood, that's all. But why didn't he do anything about it? He just, gave up after a while, he let things go on without considering what was really at play.

And then there was Handa's secret best friend, Takao, who probably knew him better than anyone else, even himself. He had known him before it happened, and was supportive of his sociality. But then, he was the cause of all of it. Why? He had ruined a great thing, broken Handa's innocent, free spirit. It's too late now, and Takao couldn't really do anything if he tried. He just gave Handa a few hints when he felt it was necessary. What else would he do?

Really, they should have seen this coming. Handa feared everyone and everything; the thought of having friends seemed to be just an illusion. He thought that every day was a new threat, and his panic grew with each word that was said to him. The theoretical list of misunderstandings just kept going and going, on and on with no end. It wouldn't stop until something happened. Until he snapped.

And then, before anyone could even begin to try and stop it, he snapped.


	2. Shattered

It was a normal day. Handa clutched his school bag to his chest and tried to ignore the looks sent his way. 

_Just keep walking... They won't kill you, not yet..._

He held his bag tighter as the weight of his calligraphy supplies and the darkness of his thoughts caused him to hunch over slightly. He started walking faster, just wanting to get to his desk. If he could just make it to his desk, he could work on a new piece, a new artistic creation and forget the world around him.

Art and Calligraphy had always been his escape from the world. After his classmates had ostracized him for calligraphy, he decided to do all he could to preserve his other practices. He hid away his paints and sponges, stopped carrying his sketch pad around with him. It hurt to not be able to openly do the things he loved, but he would rather keep at least a bit of his life private, keep some part of his privacy. So instead, he dramatized his calligraphy, making it seem that it was all he was obsessed with so no one would think to question him further. 

_Just a bit farther..._

He collapsed into his seat with a silent sigh, ignoring the immediate stares and whispers. He had made it, gotten to his seat without confrontation. Too tired to do anything else after his fortunate survival, he crossed his arms on the desk and laid his head down. 

After a few minutes of peaceful serenity, he boredly tuned in to the whispers of a group of girls to his right. They were talking about him, which he had expected. They were probably planning to embarrass him in front of the whole school or kidnap him. A shudder ran up his spine, and he hid more of his face in his arms.

Why did everyone have to target him? What did he ever do to deserve this torment? He sighed yet again. It was probably because they all knew how stupid he was, how he wasn’t perfect like the rest of them. 

He was falling asleep when the first period teacher came in and started class. He pulled out a notebook and began to take a small amount of notes, only doing so to keep paying attention. He made good marks, despite having his report card mailed home to save himself from the haunting whispers, but he had always had trouble paying attention when he already knew most of the concepts. His parents had mentioned something called ADHD, but he just assumed it was one of his many flaws.

As usual, his wall was up before anyone could try to bother him, and he tried to ignore occasional glances the others sent toward him as he focused on the lecture. One day, he vowed mentally, he would go to a deserted island and be free from the hate of the people. He didn't even know what he had done. Maybe he was just meant to be disliked. 

Sometimes he would get lost in thought, thinking back to when everything had started to change. It wasn’t a sudden thing, but after a while it had gradually made itself apparent. He remembered being creeped out by the people following him home or staring at him all day, but now that eerie curiosity was replaced by fear. He knew what they were capable of. His hands started shaking as he thought of it.

_He had been walking home alone, Takao had club activities and had told him earlier to go on ahead. It was autumn, and he decided to take the scenic route and enjoy the beauty of nature. Somewhat near his house there was a park, and behind it there was a small forest with walking trails that many people forgot about._

__

_He smiled to himself as he walked, seeing the trees already losing their scarlet leaves and animals beginning their preparations for the winter. It was quiet, and silence was something he valued. He wasn’t really paying too much attention, and that was probably his biggest mistake._

__

_At first, it was a few small sounds, a branch chipping or leaves crunching underfoot. He didn’t really pay attention to it. But then there was a large thud, and as he turned around a bag was thrown over his head._

__

_He struggled, but he had always been physically weaker than other kids his age, and he was pretty sure he was outnumbered. The last thing he remembered was a sharp pain in his neck, and he blacked out._

His memory from that day was still hazy, and he only remembered waking up in his bed with Takao sitting next to him. Everyone refused to tell him what had happened, but he didn’t have the courage to make them say anything. Eventually, it was only a brief instinct, a remembrance, in the back of his mind.

Despite his lack of knowledge, the incident still draped over him like a dark blanket, and he hoped that one day it would fully disappear. The class droned on, only adding to his grey world, until eventually he was in a state between awake and asleep, only half aware of everything around him.

He was faintly aware that one of his many tormentors, one whom he recognized from their class trip all that time ago, was watching him. The group of them, the ones who always seemed to be in his life, were spread out around the classroom.

The blonde, pretty boy one was speaking rather loudly, saying something to someone in a world that seemed far away, far away from his tomb where he was alone and content. He imagined himself in a land alone, dancing in a field.

He felt free; the air was clear, there were flowers scattered across the ground, and he could sense the animals but they stayed far away. This was his happy place, a land in his mind that he let himself go to and truly be-

A slight yell was his only warning before his fantasy shattered. The broken fragments fell around him, and in an airy solemnity he realized he was falling. Unable to comprehend the overload to his senses, he blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NaNoWriMo and school have been taking up all my time recently, but I'll try to get some writing done :P  
> Any feedback? How is everyone doing? :)


	3. Chapter 3

Yukio watched it happen. As usual, stupid kids were play fighting during break. If one of the teachers ever found out about it they would probably get detention, but no one ever was in the classroom when they needed to be.

Yukio observed with little interest like the other normal kids, but eventually his attention was drawn to the movement of the group. They were bumping into desks and knocking pencil bags to the ground, some students getting up and moving away from them. 

A sarcastic call out was on the tip of his tongue when one of the boys pushed the other a little too hard, and into an unsuspecting student. He heard a familiar yelp, ever so quiet but his ears were attuned, and jerked his eyes to where everyone in the room was staring.

The reckless student was apologizing and trying to help Handa up, waving his hands frantically about in the air, but he wasn’t responding. The fangirls and ‘Handa Squad’ were getting loud and upset, and with their usual carelessness they failed to notice what was happening.

Handa was visibly shaking, and his face was dazed and panicked. Almost immediately, Yukio knew that this wasn’t like the other times. There were no frantic thoughts bleeding off his face, no reactions other than instinctual shock. The boy trying to help was just crowding and making things worse, and if he didn’t do something something regrettable was going to happen.

Letting his stronger side loose, which he rarely ever did, he stood and slammed his hand loudly onto the top of the desk. The deep thumping sound made everyone go quiet, all eyes on him. His fringe hung over his face, casting shadows onto his eyes, and those near him inched away.

“Do not follow us,” He started. “Tell the teacher what happened and resume class as usual. Your actions are beyond apology, and I don’t want to hear your voices any more today. Got it?”

He delivered the message in a dark voice, ending in an almost-growl, and the class nodded frantically. The average student’s personality had made a complete 180, and his aura was dark and fierce.

Now free from distractions, Yukio went and slowly kneeled next to Handa on the classroom floor. Taking a breath, he quickly but softly placed his palm over Handa’s eyes and slipped his other arm around to pull their bodies together. 

The slightly younger boy tensed impossibly further before sinking with a whimper-like sound. Blackness consumed his vision and the world had gone silent except for a voice coaching him, helping him take slow, deep breaths. 

He allowed his posture to slacken, focusing on the voice, and started to feel more comfortable than he had been in a long time. As the world became weightless, he sank towards the new warmth.

No one stopped Yukio from leaving the classroom, Handa in his arms as though he weighed nothing at all. He immediately changed direction towards the infirmary, hoping that the nurse would at least let them use a bed for the rest of the school day.

When he entered, muttering the proper mannerisms, he gently set his charge down onto one of the many empty cots and looked around. The room was deserted, but after listening past Handa’s small keening sounds he heard bustling noises from the back room.

He wandered over and knocked, waiting a second before the person on the other side heard him and paused their commotion. The door slid aside, and a shorter blonde in a white lab coat smiled at him.

“What can I do for you sweetie?” She asked. He led her over to the cot, and a look of recognition passed over her eyes. Giving him another smile, this one more apologetic, she gathered some things from around the room.

She came over and strapped a mask over Handa’s face, pure oxygen pumping through to help him breath. He settled, and she put some objects in his hands; a stress ball, some sort of cube with different textures, and spinning rings.

As he slipped into the relaxed state Yukio had coaxed him into before, the nurse turned back to him and let out a breath.

“Thanks for bringing him in,” She glanced back. “This seems to be happening a lot more often now.”

“He’s been here before?”

“Unfortunately, quite a bit. Can I trust you?”

She pierced him with her eyes, and he gulped. But as he thought, his weird protective instincts kicked in and he knew he needed to figure out how to help his classmate. So he nodded.

“Sei is one of the students I have on file because of special circumstances.”

“Special circumstances?”

“He suffers from anxiety and paranoia, and most of it stems from the students’ adoration for him, which he misinterprets.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed that.”

“It’s been getting worse as of late, and I have a large favour to ask of you, now that I’ve told you this and you understand. I need you to be his knight.”

Yukio gave her a puzzled stare. The emotion behind her words was frightfully sincere, and it felt as if she was forcing some sort of responsibility on his shoulders. He wasn’t sure if he wanted it.

“Knight?”

“It’s hard to describe…” She paused thoughtfully. “He needs a bodyguard, a shield, a protector. Someone who can be there to support him and prevent these episodes. I think the person he needs is you.”

He opened his mouth and then closed it, a protest on the tip of his tongue. It sounded surreal, like when an adult told a child fantasies to make them do chores without a fuss. But something within him, that fire that he very rarely let loose, told him that he wanted to do this.

Though he was a simple student, a nobody, he felt a connection to Handa as though he was a poetic fangirl. Despite his rational mind’s distaste, he raised his eyes.

“I’ll do it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?

**Author's Note:**

> Just to be clear, this was written before Barakmon, and is based on the (pre/se)quel, Handa-kun. It takes place while he is still in highschool, so hopefully it doesn't confuse anyone.


End file.
